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This next DS106 assignment, The Role Playing Game, was probably the most thought provoking challenge I have done yet. Not only does this assignment test one’s writing skills, it also tests one’s creativity to bring an interesting story to the blogging and DS1o6 community.
I will refrain from going into too much about how I wrote what I wrote, because I don’t believe that stories gain any more meaning that way. I think that, on the contrary, it takes away something from it. In this post, I have listed the previous two parts (in italics) before mine , in order for you, the reader, to have an easier time getting into the story. One of the previous posts was posted by Roundhouse slap, so maybe check out her page, too, and tell her what you thought!

Just so everyone knows, the original entries were not titled with the names “The Beginning: Part I” or “The Beginning: Part II”. I added them to make it easy for you to discern who’s work was who’s and make it look more structured as well.

When you’re done reading, please feel free to leave a comment below. I will be more than happy to answer any questions you have, as well! You should try to do it, too, and try to add your own twist to the story!

“Joe the clown was not a happy camper this morning. This was evidenced by the fact that he had put four lumps of sugar into his coffee, instead of the regular two. He only ever broke his two-sugars rule on special occasions, so going by that particular string of logic, this was a very special occasion indeed. Nevertheless Joe had little time to sulk, hunched over his kitchen table with remnants of buttered toast still clinging to the sides of his lips. And so it was that with a labored sigh he propped himself up off his seat and began the dreaded walk towards the front door, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a red rubber nose as he did so. He finished fixing the rubber implement on his own nose at about the same moment that his other hand fell on the cold, brass doorknob that led to the outside world. He paused for a moment, just a little longer than what he would usually allow himself (but this was a special occasion, remember). He then took a deep breath, turned the knob and stepped outside into the cold chilly morning air. It was time to have a word with the neighbours who had kept him up all night…”

The moment that Joe stepped over the threshold of his apartment, the blinds on his neighbor’s window quickly flicked shut. “He’s bound to head over here to complain.” Victoria assured herself as she tugged her black leather gloves so they fit ever more snugly upon her fingertips. Her eyes flicked from the window down to the floor, where the motionless figures of the home’s actual inhabitants were sprawled. She had only precious little time before the effects of the drugs wore off. She stepped gracefully but purposefully over their slumbering bodies as she moved on to the task at hand.

She quietly traversed the room until she was poised behind the front door. Reaching into the pocket of her coat she withdrew a rather large syringe, filled halfway with an opaque yellow liquid. She was both delicate and determined as she removed the cap and flicked the tip of the half-inch needle with the back of her gloved fingertips. A little pressure on the end of the syringe with her thumb forced a single droplet of liquid out of its tip. It was at this moment she heard Joe’s steps come to a halt on the other side door. The edges of her lips tugged upwards into a satisfied smirk.

In one swift motion the door swung open, and before the clown could react they were pressed up against one another. A passer-by could have mistaken this as an embrace from afar; Victoria, much shorter than Joe, looked like she had rushed into the arms of her lover. However, hidden betwixt their mashed up bodies her hand held and empty syringe, its needle buried deep into the clown’s chest. She wrapped her free arm around his back as his form slumped lifelessly onto hers, and dragged him into the home as the door shut behind them.”

The house, of late Victorian style, was quite bare on the inside. Contrary to the incredibly well maintained, lavish exterior of the house, the interior was surprisingly dull and bare. The first floor was quite open, partially exposing all the rooms except for the kitchen, which was, from the entrance of the house, completely obscured from sight. Immediately upon entering, one was first greeted with the sight of an ancient winding staircase that led up to the higher floors. Once inside, Victoria, with an unexpected strength, carried the limp, twitching clown up the stairs. As they ascended, the heavy door to the entrance slowly closed behind them.

After reaching the second floor, Victoria casually strode into the room directly in front of the stair case. Contradictory to the rest of the house, this large, spacious room was quite cluttered. Like stacks of paper, several bodies in piles of two littered the floor. Apparently accustomed to the sight, she proceeded to walk over to a single, lonesome looking creature and began to place the body of the unlucky performer she held, on top of it, in a most particular manner. After examining her seemingly dead captives on the floor, she became slightly irritated. Victoria, always in complete control of the situation, was deeply bothered by the scene before her. Something was wrong, but luckily she knew just what it was and how to fix it.

Slowly but surely she began to make her way back over to Joe the Clown. As the elegant figure reached the near lifeless lumps of flesh, she gracefully stretched her arm forward and plucked off Joe’s bright-red nose piece. After fingering it in her hand for just a moment, she tossed it callously into the far left corner of the room.

The visage of Joe the Clown without his signature cherry-colored snout, seemingly lifeless on the floor, pleased her greatly. Ready to move on to the next phase of her plan, she quickly exited the room just as she entered. Curious as one may be, to peer into her thoughts now, one would find the truth to this grisly reality.

The thought of several potential hosts for her “children” is what really made her shiver with joy. The yellow liquid injected into the chests of the victims, now coursing through their bodies, contained a single egg of a being that was not from this world. Unknown to the human incubators covering the floor, her terrifying plan was already underway with chance of little interference. Victoria’s curly, auburn hair bounced gently off her soft, supple cheeks as she further admired her victims, relishing the fate that she has brought them.